


Birthday

by Toejones



Series: Remembering [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 1930s, Avengers Family, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Kissing, Birthday Presents, Coney Island, Drunken Flirting, Fireworks, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Flirting, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fourth of July, Getting Back Together, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Men Crying, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Reunions, So much flirting, Surprise Party, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, teenagers kissing???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toejones/pseuds/Toejones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky chuckled and Steve’s stomach fluttered. “But actually, Stark did tell me to come tell you that fireworks are gonna start soon. Real special ones, just for you. You had to turn ninety-five, but you’re gettin’ the show you deserve.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Steve laughed shortly and let it fade, “Y’know, doctors never thought I’d make it to twenty five.”</p><p>“I knew you would."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my pal Charlotte (captainjunglegym.tumblr.com) for helping me make some decisions on where to go with this one.

 “What was the emergency again?” Steve shouted over the engine of his motorcycle as Bucky zipped along, weaving through cars at somewhere around twenty over the speed limit.

“I don’t really know!” Bucky called back, voice nearly whipped away in the wind.

Steve clutched at his waist, closing his eyes against the wind and Bucky’s hair whipping him in the face, holding on for dear life as Bucky nearly clipped the curb during a turn. He’d never been behind Bucky on the bike before, and so far he was not eager to repeat the experience any time soon.

They slowed down and Bucky actually signaled, turning left neatly into the Stark Tower parking lot. He found a spot and put his legs down, shutting the bike off and kicking the kickstand down with less care than Steve would have liked.

“Something about explosions on the roof,” Bucky finished, running a hand through his windblown hair. “You shoulda answered the phone, Steve, I dunno.”

“Real helpful, pal,” Steve said, dismounting the bike a little unsteadily. He glowered even as he reached out to fix a stray piece of hair against Bucky’s forehead.

“I ain’t a secretary,” Bucky replied with a smirk and an eyeroll, turning to walk towards the building and gesturing for Steve to follow.

“Or a good driver,” Steve grumbled, dragging his feet after Bucky like his boots weighed a ton.

“Oh shut up, I’m an _exciting_ driver.”

“Sure,” Steve rolled his eyes and then sighed, “Of all days, Tony had to call in an ‘emergency’ today.”

He and Bucky were supposed to go down to the water to watch the fireworks in, Steve checked his watch, fifteen minutes, and Bucky had promised to take him to dinner after at the little diner they liked. Tony Stark’s ‘emergencies’ often turned out to be more like minor personal catastrophes. Like:

‘Natasha, I need a date for this ball and Pepper is in Taiwan’, or ‘Steve, Pepper’s niece is here and she wants to meet Captain America, come over’, or one memorable time ‘Thor, I need you to help me pick furniture at Ikea because Pepper says she’s going to leave me if she stays any longer and I can’t pronounce anything’.

But Bucky had answered the phone this time because Steve had been in the shower, and explosions sounded pretty serious, so there Steve was. On the Fourth of July. Fifteen minutes before something Steve had privately been calling a date all week.

 “Sorry, Stevie,” Bucky slowed so Steve could catch up and reached over to tousle his hair.

“It’s alright, I guess,” Steve frowned and batted Bucky’s hand away.

“C’mon, let’s just get this over with,” Bucky urged, grabbing Steve’s hand and tugging him along towards the private entrance; a nondescript door into what Tony called the ‘superhero mud room’, a glorified closet for the team full of extra clothes (civilian and uniform), shoes, and extra cash for quick access in emergencies.

Bucky gave Steve’s hand a squeeze before letting go and gesturing for Steve to scan them in. Steve pressed his hand to the bright blue pad by the door and felt warmth as it was scanned. A light blinded his right eye for a moment, and then JARVIS said;

 >>Scan complete. Voice recognition phrase, please.<<

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sexy grandpa likes to wear tights.” Bucky snorted behind him.

>>Good evening and happy birthday, Captain Rogers. Mister Barnes, you have been scanned in as the captain’s guest.<<

“Thank you. And… JARVIS, why did Tony call me?” Steve asked as he shoved open the heavy door to reveal the dark room beyond.

>>Mister Stark is having trouble on the multi-level deck floor,<< JARVIS replied.

“What kind of trouble?” Steve’s brow creased.

>>He requests that you come see yourself, Captain,<< JARVIS replied.

“Alright. I better grab my gun from the bike,” Steve said, turning.

>>No need, Captain. A gun will not be necessary.<<

“You have your shield, and I have this,” Bucky reminded him, holding up his month-old hand with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Did you know it has repulsors?” he wiggled his fingers.

“Yes, I was at the orientation,” Steve snapped. “Jesus, Bucky, be serious. This doesn’t sound too bad but Tony _could_ be in troub-” Steve stopped talking as he noticed a cloud of smoke billowing away from the top of the tower. “Shit, Bucky, smoke. We need to-”

“Robot said no guns,” Bucky insisted, winding his metal fingers into Steve’s.

Steve could have broken the hold, but some part of him still trusted Bucky in potentially dangerous situations without a second guess and so he let himself be yanked along into the elevator. Bucky hit the button for the deck floor, which as far as Steve could remember, he hadn’t been to since Loki’s attack, and Bucky had never been to.

They were silent as they went up eighty-six floors, Steve too tense to initiate conversation and Bucky too occupied with holding Steve’s hand. At least, that was Steve’s best guess, unable to focus on it while he was running through the floorplan in his mind.

When the doors hissed open to reveal another dark room, Steve’s pulse started to pick up. He could make out the basic shape of furniture and the fact that the curtains were drawn over the far wall of windows, but not much else. He didn’t hear or see any movement, but quieted his breathing and took his shield off his back anyway.

Bucky apparently had other ideas. He let go of Steve’s hand and charged forwards.

“Bucky, stop!” he hissed, snatching for Bucky’s hand back and missing.

He fell into place behind him instead, trying to think of any reason for Bucky to be so reckless. Bucky didn’t even like the light to be off in the hall if he was going to be coming home during the night.

“Bucky?” he tried again, tripping over something that felt like shoes in the dark. He finally managed to get fingers in Bucky’s back pocket on a blind swipe and pulled him back a little.

“Shh, Steve,” Bucky said, stumbling too. Steve shut his mouth, pulled his hand back, and waited for Bucky to finish his sentence. “I think I hear something outside.”

Bucky nudged the curtains aside, a bright white strip of light coming in and revealing that Steve had, in fact, tripped over a pair of shoes that looked strangely like Clint’s purple vans (complete with the hole in the toe of the right one).  Bucky gripped the door handle he’d revealed and opened the door a crack.

“Bucky what-” Steve elbowed up next to him and then suddenly Bucky threw the door wide open.

“SURPRISE!”

Steve was hit with the smell of outside air along with the yell. Before he could even register what was happening, there was a loud bang as a small round of fireworks exploded over the porch. He flinched, hunching and half-raising his shield before he saw Falcon and Iron Man flying with the explosions in loops. Thick red, white, and blue smoke trailed after them and three drawn out seconds of _The Star-Spangled Banner_ played over the sound system.

Steve floundered uselessly, unsure what was happening and resisting the urge to complete his cover-and-roll so he could collect information on the situation.

The entire team and everyone else he’d consider a friend, plus some extraneous plus-ones, were scattered around on the roof with grins on their faces. The rooftop pool was uncovered and there were tables set up around the porch, some with food or drinks and some for sitting. A small stack of brightly wrapped presents was piled in the corner. The giant grill was lit and smoking already, explaining the cloud they’d seen from the ground. It was manned by Thor and Rhodey, each with a spatula in hand.

Situation: non-threatening. Heart: pounding. Conclusion: confusion.

Natasha came up to Steve first, smirking. She was wearing shorts and a bikini top, matching most of the other guests who were decked out in poolside attire. He opened his mouth uselessly and without warning, he had a face and mouth full of confetti, tossed from somewhere above him. He flinched before he felt Natasha’s hand on his arm.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” she said through a laugh, gently pushing his shield down and going on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. She brushed confetti off his cheek and then her own lips with another huff of laughter.

“I-” Steve stuttered, spitting out blue flakes and doing another scan of the area.

Tony landed with a heavy thud beside Natasha. Sam was close behind, and landed already laughing hard.

“Too much?” Tony asked, flipping up his faceplate and raising an eyebrow.

“He’s fine, he’s fine,” Sam said cautiously, laughter stopping when he actually saw Steve. He pushed his goggles up his forehead and furrowed his brow. “Just give him a second.”

“He doesn’t do surprise well,” Bucky added, suddenly sounding worried and making Steve jump by putting a cold hand at the small of his back, right above the waist of his jeans where his shirt had ridden up. Steve registered the inside lights behind them coming on and the curtains opening.

“Is he ok?” a blur dropped down from somewhere above, landing right in the center of the small circle without warning; finally too much stimulation and Steve reacted by slamming his shield right into what turned out to be Clint’s face.

Clint’s hands were covered in confetti when they shot to his nose. Blood dripped onto his bare chest and down to the patio below between his fingers. “Fuck!” he wheezed, spitting blood and sticky confetti.

“I- oh God!” Steve let his shield drop with a clang and it rolled off somewhere. “Clint- I, Clint,” he couldn’t form a coherent thought, much less a sentence. The next thing from his mouth was a wheeze.

“Get Steve inside,” Natasha said calmly to Bucky, putting a hand on Clint’s face and turning it towards her. Steve scanned the crowd one more time before Bucky turned him with an arm around his waist, thankful to find that most guests were laughing, thinking he was simply surprised from their distance.

 “We forgot this was a pool party! We need to go change,” Bucky said loudly to the crowd with a laugh that probably sounded natural to everyone but Steve. There was another echoing laugh from the majority of the crowd. “Just breathe, Steve,” Bucky whispered when the door closed behind them.

 

_“C’mon Steve, don’t just stand there! The water is swell!” Bucky whooped from the ocean. He was shielding his eyes against the sun, staring at Steve from waist-deep in the surf._

_Steve stared hard at him, crossing his arms and tilting his chin up defiantly. Bucky was filling out and shooting up like most boys their age, and had gained sunkissed skin and a smattering of freckles from his time spent outside working in the yard at the home. Steve had managed to gain sunburnt cheeks in just the time he spent outside that day alone, and wasn’t eager to take off his shirt and burn that skin too. Not to mention his body. He wasn’t too much shorter than Bucky, just four inches as it was, but Bucky had something like forty pounds on him._

_“Steeeeve!” he called again, warning tone indicating he knew Steve was over-thinking. “I will drag your sorry ass in! Strip!”_

_Steve rolled his eyes and groaned. That was not an empty threat. He reached back and pulled his shirt over his head. “Happy?” he yelled back._

_“Get in!” Bucky was starting to back up to swimming depth._

_“Christ,” Steve muttered under his breath._

_He threw his shirt down next to Bucky’s in the sand. Crossing his arms again, he stood at the edge of the surf and watched Bucky disappear beneath the waves. He waited a count of ten before stepping out into the surf, the water tickling his toes. After a minute or so, he brought a hand up to his brow, scanning the gently moving water and the people in it for Bucky, who still hadn’t surfaced._

_“Bucky?” he called._

_“You asked for it!” Bucky yelled from behind him. Arms wrapped around his waist and hauled him up. Suddenly, they were lurching forward and then Steve was underwater._

 

Bucky was on Steve as soon as they were in the small bathroom.

“I’m sorry,” he said frantically, running a hand up and down Steve’s spine. “I didn’t think- I didn’t think at all, did I? I said it would be fine to surprise you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… You never liked surprises, and I should have known that would be worse now. Fuck, Steve, I am so sorr-”

“It is fine,” Steve said, the words tumbling out now that he was out of the crowd’s view. “It’s not the surprise it’s- it’s just- the explosions and the- Clint,” he made a vague hand gesture and Bucky seemed to get it.

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky said. “I’m the worst, Jesus.”

He filled a Dixie cup with water at the sink and handed it to Steve, who gulped it down in one and crumpled the cup. He continued to rub Steve’s back until Steve felt his heart slow a bit and nodded at him.

“I brought you shorts,” Bucky added after another minute, handing Steve a folded up pair that had disappeared from his drawer two days ago.

“I don’t swim,” Steve croaked. “And you’re not awful.”

“I know you don’t,” Bucky smiled ruefully and ignored the rest. “Figured you’d at least like to get out of your jeans and boots, though.”

 

_Steve gasped in air as he came above the waves, paddling for his life. “Jesus fuckin-!”_

_He sputtered for another moment, coughing up salt water, before he found his footing a few feet back and dug his toes into the sand. Bucky was close by, up to his chin in water. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, and his blue eyes were particularly bright paired with the clear July sky and the surf. He grinned like a shark._

_“Don’t let the penguins hear you talk like that,” he winked, slow with the water weighing down his lashes._

_Steve choked again in response, trying to regain his breath and keep his nose above water. He clutched at his ribs, hands slow to get there through the water. His sinuses were on fire with salt and his lungs burned with strain._

_“Shit,” Bucky smile flickered away and he waded over. “Just breathe,” he said, rubbing firmly at Steve’s shoulders and down his spine._

_“Just,” Steve coughed, “a second, just a second.”_

 

“I accept your apology,” Clint said casually, a few minutes later after Steve’s very-near-panic-attack was over and he and Bucky had both changed into shorts. Steve, still a little on edge, startled when Clint spoke right as he came out the door.

“I am so sorry,” Steve said in a rush. “I just-”

“I get it, I get it,” Clint raised his hands placatingly. “I legit thought you had a heart attack, bro.”

“Er,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck and felt his cheeks warm up.

“You didn’t, did you?” Clint asked, poking him in the chest.

“No, he didn’t,” Bucky answered for him and shook his head. “Honestly, Barton.”

“We should be more careful though. He _is_ a senior citizen,” Tony said, coming outside and walking around to stand in between Bucky and Clint. He’d traded his suit for a set of mirrored sunglasses (at night, Steve noted), American flag swim trunks, and nothing else.

“Younger than you, Stark,” Steve managed to quip weakly back. Tony chuckled.

“I’m pretty sure you’re ninety-five,” Bucky said. He hip-checked Steve with a self-conscious laugh. He was still looking a little guilty despite the fact that Steve had told him it was fine something like twelve times.

“I’m twenty-eight, jerk,” Steve said, bumping Bucky’s hip in return. Bucky seemed to perk up at that.

“How do you figure _that_?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I was twenty-four when I froze,” Steve shrugged.

“He earned the right to fudge the math a little,” Bucky agreed, patting Steve’s back.

“Oh man, I’m old,” Clint drew a breath in between his teeth. “Shit. I’m older than Captain America. Jesus.”

“Eyesight’s first to go, better watch out,” Tony said.

“Is that why you can’t shoot?” Clint smirked, wrinkling the bandage pressed over his purpling nose.

“Well, you gentlemen have at it. We’re gonna grab some food, right, Steve?” Bucky looked up at him.

“Yes,” Steve agreed, secretly very thankful and suddenly _very_ hungry.

Bucky nodded and used the hand on Steve’s back to push him gently towards the grill, away from Tony’s sputtering. The majority of the guests Steve knew well that weren’t in the pool or over by the tables of other food were there, waiting.

Steve received hugs from Jane and Maria, Maria’s too tight and Jane’s too gentle. Rhodey gave him a simple slap on the back, ruffled his hair, and asked how he’d been. Darcy, in typical fashion, grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him down into a showy, sloppy kiss on the cheek, receiving some laughter from the immediate grill crowd. Steve turned bright red, and Thor added to the embarrassment by picking him up around the waist and spinning him around.

“MY FRIEND STEVEN!” he boomed as he put him down, a little dizzier than before. “It has been a very long time! I do apologize for the perhaps too violent surprise just now.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said, feeling himself go bashful. Thor took the hint and diverted the attention.

“James!” he cheered, reaching out with a surprising gentleness to grip Bucky’s flesh shoulder, “I am pleased to hear that you are fully yourself again. You did not seem to be the same man Steve told tales of when last we met at the Yuletide.”

“Ooo, he told tales about me?” Bucky grinned, sending a sly look Steve’s way.

“All I want to talk about right now is food,” Steve changed the subject with an awkward laugh. “You guys scared me starving.”

“Good news!” Rhodey called over his shoulder. He turned after a moment with two paper plates in his hand, the most beautiful burgers Steve had ever seen sitting on them. “I make the best damn burgers you will ever taste, kiddo.”

Steve and Bucky both took one and bit into them in near-unison. Bucky made an appreciative noise as he chewed, his eyes shutting in bliss.

 

_“I’m back!” Bucky said, plopping down next to Steve on the bench._

_“What took you so long?” Steve huffed. “Sat here looking all wet by myself. Was the line for the bathroom really worth it? You coulda just pissed in the ocean.”_

_“You_ are _all wet,” Bucky ruffled his hair, flinging salty water around. Steve laughed despite himself and swatted his hand away. “As for what took so long… Dinner!” Bucky declared, holding up the cup of lemonade and two hot dogs he’d brought back._

_“My hero,” Steve said seriously, taking one. “I’m starved.”_

_“Forgive me for leavin’ you for too long?” Bucky asked, raising his eyebrows and watching Steve eat._

_Steve chewed thoughtfully around a too-big bite of hotdog and squinted at Bucky. He swallowed hard, “I guess so,” he finally said. “This is pretty tasty.”_

_“Nathan’s does not disappoint. Now, the lemonade’s so you’ll forgive me for almost drownin’ you,” Bucky grinned, offering up the cup to Steve._

_Steve leaned over and wrapped his lips around the straw. The lemonade was almost too sweet, just like he liked it. He hummed and pretended to consider. “Mmm, yeah. Okay. I forgive you.”_

 

“I have come a long way to join this celebration,” Thor said, casually leaning against the picnic table and pointing to Steve.

“Yeah, thank you for that,” Steve said with an appreciative grin, setting his now empty plate aside. “You didn’t have to come, you know.”

“It is rare one gets to celebrate two events at once,” Thor replied. “The day you came into your world is a joyous occasion on its own, but your country’s independence was declared this day as well, correct?”

“Yep,” Bucky answered for Steve and smirked around his thumb, sucking the ketchup off in a distracting way before continuing. “America and its Captain’s birthday.”

“An improbable, but fortunate coincidence! What I mean to say is that since it is such a special occasion and I do not make the trip to your realm as often as I would like to, I have perhaps brought gifts in excess,” Thor said. He pointed over the table containing all the wrapped presents. “Three barrels of the finest Asgardian ale brewed by Aegir, Kegger of the gods!”

Steve looked over and saw the three gigantic barrels he had somehow missed in the commotion before. They were probably too big to fit in his apartment. They were probably too big to fit just one in his apartment.

“There’s so much,” Steve blurted. Thor’s laughter boomed loud enough to attract the attention of everyone on the porch, a momentary hush falling before they realized it was only Thor.

“Steven,” Thor chuckled, quieter. “You are refreshing, my friend. And, James! I believe Steven mentioned that you share his high tolerance for Midgardian spirits somewhere along the line. Is this true?”

“Yeah, to an extent,” Bucky said slowly, frisbeeing his plate into the trashcan a few feet away. “Why?”

“That is a shame!” Thor crowed. “I should have brought more for you as well.”

“I, uh, think this will be enough for both of us,” Bucky chuckled, eyeing the three barrels warily. “We might have to move me into Steve’s bedroom to fit it into the apartment as it is.”

“You have separate sleeping quarters?” Thor asked, scrunching his face at Bucky like he’d said something truly baffling.

Steve froze and Bucky said, “Uh?” before looking at Steve in confusion. “Yeah, why?” he finished, looking back at Thor when Steve remained silent and unhelpful.

“Is _that_ how unions are done between two men on Midgard? Jane, why did you not tell-” Thor turned his head sharply to the right to address Jane. Steve followed Thor’s gaze, neck craning to see over his shoulder.

Jane was shaking her head wildly and making ‘cut it out’ motions with her finger across her neck. Maria had her face in her hands and Darcy was laughing hysterically but silently, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. When Jane saw Steve looking, she froze and turned red.

“Unions?” Bucky raised his eyebrows high.

Thor was not an easily embarrassed man, and rarely reacted badly when he slipped up, but now Thor was slack-jawed and visually floundering for words. Steve had thought that Thor didn’t know about his and Bucky’s past, but he kept looking over at Steve like he _did_ know, and knew how badly he’d just fucked up.

“I think he, uh, means,” Steve stammered, trying to save face for Thor, Bucky from finding out how he and Steve had used to be, and more embarrassment for himself, “the-the-the, uh-”

“He means the bond between two warriors,” Natasha said. She’d slipped into the group without notice and Steve almost jumped, but he was calm enough now that he forced it down. “On Asgard they all sleep together in one room, right Thor?” she raised her eyebrows and Thor’s face fell into plain, open relief.

“Yes!” Thor nodded a little too hard. He was about as good of a liar as Steve, and usually it was something to bond over, but now it was just unfortunate. “We sleep in the same room with our battle partners to… to strengthen our union- what we call our _brotherly_ bond!”

Steve heard Jane smack her forehead, Maria groan, and Darcy finally let out a wheeze of uncontrolled laughter behind him.

“Oookay,” Bucky didn’t look convinced and glanced over to the women losing it behind them.

“Why don’t you go initiate him?” Natasha said, looking up pointedly at Thor. “Challenge him to the traditional Asgardian three-mug-chug?”

Thor laughed heartily and nodded, shooting an endlessly thankful look at Natasha. He moved around Steve and slapped an arm around Bucky, hard enough that there was a loud clang when his hand hit Bucky’s metal arm.

“Come, James, let us test your tolerance against Aegir’s legendary ale!”

 “Uh, I dunno,” Bucky was wearing a mildly scandalized look as he glanced over his shoulder at Steve.

“Go on,” Steve made a shooing motion with his hands, relief finally allowing him to crack a smile. “Have fun. Get drunk. Trust me, this stuff is great!”

“Be you a lightweight?” Thor teased, jostling Bucky roughly enough that his teeth clacked.

“No!” Bucky set his jaw and Steve knew nothing was going to stop Bucky, then. He and Thor charged forwards towards the kegs.

“That was the best thing I have ever watched happen,” Clint said, joining Steve and Natasha. “I am never going to let him forget this.”

“I don’t think it will matter soon,” Natasha said cryptically. Obviously, it was something Clint was in on, because he snickered.

 

_“Steve, let’s go on the Cyclone,” Bucky said as he licked mustard and grease off his fingers. Steve almost didn’t hear him, as focused as he was on Bucky’s mouth._

_“What?” he snapped back into the conversation. “Oh! Uh, I don’t know,” Steve made a face, “I’ve never been on a roller coaster before.”_

_“Only ‘cause you were too short last time we came here,” Bucky replied. He took a gulp of their lemonade that ended with an empty slurping sound. He rattled the ice around. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”_

_“Don’t we gotta pay for it?” Steve tried in a last-ditch effort. He glanced up at the big wooden structure, just a little ways in the distance from their seat._

_“Mmhmm,” Bucky nodded. “It’s only fifty cents for the both of us together. I made sure I had extra cash.”_

_“I don’t want you payin’ for me,” Steve grunted, grabbing the cup. He chewed on some ice as he stared down the coaster, listening to the far-off screams._

_“You paid for the subway,” Bucky reminded him. “Also, I don’t know if you remember this, but it’s your birthday. I specifically saved up. You chicken or somethin’?”_

_Steve groaned, but knew that Bucky knew that Steve could not back down from that accusation. “No, I’m not,” he finally sighed. “Let’s go.”_

 

“I am officially feeling the party,” Bucky announced, interrupting Clint and Natasha’s enthusiastic debate about the hotel bedspread in Budapest; a story Steve had still never heard fully. It was always snippets like details about the hotel they stayed at, or a meal they shared, but never any insight as to why they were there or what they actually did.

Bucky caught himself on Steve’s arm, his flip flop catching on the step up. Steve steadied him, trying to also balance the plate of chips and dip in his other hand.

“Too fast after so long sober?” Steve teased. He plucked the solo cup out of Bucky’s hands and gulped down what was left before setting it next to the chips. The warmth immediately pooled behind his ribs and in his stomach, a feeling he missed more than he’d like to admit (and one Thor had made sure he’d never have to miss again).

“Asgardians aren’t fuckin’ around,” Bucky replied. “I lost the three-mug-chug.”

“You know that isn’t real right?” Clint raised his eyebrows and looked sidelong at Natasha, who laughed breathily at being called out.

“What?” Bucky squinted at them.

“There is no such thing as a three-mug-chug. Natasha was just saving Thor’s ass. Didn’t want you to get mad at him,” Clint stared pointedly at Steve as he continued, his trademark ‘payback’ smirk on his lips, “for assuming you and Steve were _married_.”

 Steve glared back at Clint. Hard.

“Why would I get mad because of that?” Bucky made a face.

“’Cause you’re not together,” a slow, wicked smile that made Steve want to hit Clint (again) spread across Clint’s face. “Right?”

“Oh,” Bucky just leaned into Steve with a furrow between his brows. “I’m not mad at all,” he shrugged, rubbing the metal plating of his arm against Steve’s skin. “I knew what he was sayin’. He’s as bad a liar as Steve.”

“That he is,” Clint agreed, making a complicated series of quick hand gestures at Natasha that Steve vaguely recognized as sign language. Natasha almost choked on her Doritos and signed something that only required her making a fist, tapping her forehead, and pointing at her hip.

Steve took a deep breath, shooting Clint and Natasha another half-hearted glare. He dipped a chip and held it out to Bucky, trying to distract him from the conversation. Drunk Bucky loved food. Bucky barely got the chip into his mouth, smearing cheese on his chin. He didn’t seem to notice and munched happily, making it hard for Steve to remain angry at anyone. He laughed and wiped the dip off Bucky’s chin with his thumb.

“Thanks,” Bucky said.

Steve looked up as he was sticking his thumb into his mouth, only to find Clint and Natasha staring him down again. Clint was fighting down a smile and Natasha wasn’t even bothering to hide how high her eyebrows had gone. Steve scowled at them both.

“What’s ‘fuck you’ in sign language?” he mouthed to Clint. Clint just snorted.

“What…?” Bucky was glancing between all of them, squinty and pouting.

“You seem to be in a good mood for someone who just got played,” Natasha replied, sipping at her drink like they hadn’t just been having a silent conversation around Bucky.

“I haven’t felt the effects of alcohol in… seventy-something years,” Bucky said, just at the precipice of slurring his words and clearly well into obliviousness. “I am in a _great_ mood.”

“It’s good to see you up and at it these last few weeks,” Clint said, more sincerely than anything else Steve had heard him say that night. “Not that I don’t appreciate quiet brooding types,” he elbowed Natasha who swiped at his head. He ducked with a laugh.

Bucky’s smile faltered a little at that, but it was just a momentary flicker Steve wouldn’t have caught if he wasn’t staring. Steve put an arm around him and shook him a little, playfully.

“So you and Thor get along despite the slip-up, I take it?”

“Oh yeah!” Bucky’s face brightened back up. “He wanted to know about how my arm works, because apparently fake limbs in Asgard are similar, or something.”

 

_“So what did you get me for my birthday?” Steve asked, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees. He and Bucky were sitting in the sand under the pier, Steve cross-legged and Bucky sprawled out with his head in Steve’s lap._

_“Hmmm,” Bucky tapped his chin. “I seem to recall buying dinner and a ride on the cyclone.”_

_“A dinner I threw up because of said ride on the cyclone,” Steve reminded him with a gentle cuff to the side of his head. “They cancel out.”_

_Bucky turned away and huffed laughter against Steve’s ankles. Steve plopped his chin on his hand and looked down with a crooked smile, studying how Bucky’s eyelashes brushed his cheeks._

_“I also remember buyin’ you a coke to wash the taste out of your mouth.”_

_“That’s true,” Steve nodded and decided to let the topic drop. He’d been teasing anyway; presents weren’t important and he wasn’t expecting one. The day had been fun, and that was enough._

_Bucky wiggled and sat up though, robbing Steve of warmth and leaving salt-and-sweat-sticky skin in his wake. He folded his legs up and turned to face Steve. There was a mischievous light in his eyes, visible even under the pitiful light they got in strips through the boards of the pier._

_“There is one thing,” Bucky said. He reached into his pocket and when he pulled his hand out, a small flask came along with it._

_“Buck!” Steve gaped, a little appalled, but mostly impressed if he was being honest. What came out was, “That’s illegal.”_

_“Don’t blow your wig, pal,” Bucky rolled his eyes._

_“You’re a no-good criminal, Barnes,” Steve sighed, but he felt himself start smiling despite it, his act crumbling. “How’d you even get that, you egg?” exasperated fondness, Steve thought, was his default when dealing with Bucky._

_“I’ve been haulin’ boxes for the big Italian fella that runs the gin mill down the street from the home. He pays me alright, and he said I could have some as long as I ‘keep my damn mouth shut’. I asked for it yesterday when I got off.”_

_“Well… Mama told me not to hang around with bad boys,” Steve said, raising his voice in pitch and pressing his knuckles to his forehead. “What-_ ever _is a good Christian boy like me to do? She never said they might be…_ handsome _!”_

 _“Oh drop it,” Bucky snorted. “I know you ain’t as good as those nuns think, and you aren’t some girl like the boys think either,” he shook the flask in Steve’s face. “Besides, your mama_ adored _me. Now drink up, huh?”_

_“Fine, you caught me,” Steve reached out and snagged the flask from Bucky, flicking the top open with an eye-roll like the situation annoyed him more than it did. He took a swig and nearly spit it back out. He knew how rare it was to get booze with how hard the nuns watched them though, and choked it down. “Christ,” he coughed, “it’s like fire.”_

_“Rot gut,” Bucky replied. “Cheap as can be and readily available,” he smirked._

_“Well,” Steve muttered, taking another drink and focusing on the warmth blooming low in his stomach. “I sorta want to remember my birthday, Buck.”_

_“And I gotta get up for Sunday school in the morning,” Bucky shrugged, snagging the flask and putting it to his lips. Steve was relieved to see that Bucky was about as prepared for the taste as he had been, and downright pleased to watch him spit some down his front. “Blech. You ain’t kiddin’,” Bucky croaked, shoving it back at Steve with disgust so he could wipe down his chest._

 

“Hey there, doll,” Bucky said with a wink, folding down next to Steve at the side of the recently vacated pool. Steve grinned at him in greeting. “What’s a nice boy like you doin’ over here all alone?”

“Hey there, fella,” he replied, nudging at Bucky’s ribs with his elbow. “I just needed some air. It’s been a pretty stressful night.”

Bucky looked like he might throw up or cry, which was his most unattractive guilt face. “Aw, Steve,” he started.

Steve cut him off, “Not to say I haven’t had fun, because I definitely have. I just mean that I needed some space for a minute.”

“I can leave?” Bucky’s guilt face was still on, but less so.

“Nah, you don’t count,” Steve leaned into him briefly. They sat in silence for a solid minute that left Steve strangely antsy for having wanted quiet. Bucky seemed to pick up on it, as was his way, and spoke.

 “I know what you mean, by the way. Being in the spotlight always bothered you and if we’re being honest, I’m feeling a little crowded too. Been a while since I went to a party and talked to more than two people.”

“You’d think I’d be used to it by now,” Steve sighed, uncrossing his legs and shoving his feet into the cool water.

“Well, to be fair, you didn’t have any time to prepare for this round. You were expecting a quiet night and we scared the shit out of you,” Bucky nudged Steve’s shoulder with his own and slipped his feet into the pool beside Steve’s.

“True,” Steve agreed. He cleared his throat and tried to shift the mood. “So what brings a bad boy like you over here into nice boy territory anyway, huh? Awful coincidental that you needed air too,” it was an old game they played, but a good one. Bucky visibly brightened.

“Bad boys like harassing good boys,” Bucky chuckled and Steve’s stomach fluttered. “But actually, Stark did tell me to come tell you that fireworks are gonna start soon. Real special ones, just for you,” Bucky winked and smiled, tilting his head to grace Steve with a look through his lashes. “This time we don’t have to pretend. It only took a few decades, but you’re gettin’ the show you deserve.”

“Thanks,” Steve laughed shortly and let it fade, “Y’know, doctors never thought I’d make it to twenty five.”

“I knew you would,” Bucky insisted, looking down at their feet in the water.

“You always were always an optimist,” Steve smiled and rubbed Bucky’s back fondly. “Thanks for dragging me here. It’s nice, even with the ambush and constant embarrassment.”

He nodded down towards the crowd across the pool. Everyone was starting to sit, arranging themselves on the step-down level of the porch below the pool for the show. Steve scanned them, taking a headcount out of habit. Bucky interrupted it by speaking.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said with a slight frown, staring a little blankly down at the other guests. Steve looked back at him curiously and tilted his head. “I believe…” Bucky said slowly, looking back at Steve after a moment longer, “I remember birthdays requiring a gift.”

“Oh,” Steve felt his face go pink. Sure, there had been the table of gifts, but those had all been small, inane gag gifts like his own merchandise, or mugs, or stupid t-shirts, and most had been from Tony. What did one buy Captain America, anyway? “You don’t have to.”

“But I already did,” Bucky said, flicking his eyes nervously between the water in front of them and Steve’s face.

“Oh no,” Steve smiled past the panic Bucky’s expression was  bringing back. “Is it another horrible surprise?”

“Hopefully not horrible,” Bucky replied, dragging out a plainly wrapped rectangular box from behind him that Steve hadn’t noticed, “and definitely not scary”. He dropped it gently in Steve’s lap. “Open it up.”

Steve did so cautiously, picking at the tape and gently peeling back the paper. The box was plain white, and the lid came off with a little puff of dust. Inside, there was a small case of his favorite brand of artist’s pencils and an old journal. He stared at the journal for a second before gently picking it up to look at it in the light, opening the cracked leather cover curiously. He inhaled sharply through his nose and smelled old paper.

Staring back at him was the view out their Brooklyn apartment’s window drawn from memory, his own signature, and the date December 13th 1943.

“ _Bucky_ ,” the syllables punched out of Steve’s chest along with all his breath. “Oh, Bucky.”

“I, uh, got it off this collector of art in London,” Bucky was almost whispering. “It got left behind somewhere after you went down. Stupid guy didn’t know what he had.”

“Oh my God,” Steve brought a hand to his mouth. Eventually, he knew he was going to cry, but the last thing he wanted to do was smudge anything or drop anything into the pool, and he was too shocked to do more than stare, anyway.

“Thought you’d want it back,” Bucky shrugged stiffly. “You never draw anymore, and I thought the pencils might help that, too, or something.”

“I just… No one really knows I like to draw, I guess,” Steve breathed, flipping to the next sketch. It was Peggy, young and stern, painstakingly shaded with a nub of a pencil. “I kind of forgot about it too, I think.”

“You should start again. There’s um…” he shifted around uncomfortably, suddenly not letting his shoulder or leg touch Steve, “a photograph, too. At the bottom. I guess you tucked it in the back at some point, it came with the book.”

Steve peered down into the box and pushed aside the pencil set. Sure enough, there was a small square of paper laying face-down at the bottom of the box with a hasty 1943 scribbled on the back in Bucky’s handwriting. Steve was dimly aware of Bucky taking the sketchbook out of his hands as he reached to pick up the picture.

“It’s,” Steve’s heart stuttered, and this time he did tear up. “Stark Photomatic,” he said, not able to put all his thoughts into words.

“Yup,” Bucky nodded, voice wavering.

It was a photo of the two of them at the Stark Expo the day before Bucky had left for Europe, taken in a photo booth along with three others before they’d met the girls. Steve was small and laughing, wearing Bucky’s hat down over his eyes. Bucky, in his dress uniform, was looking down at Steve with a ridiculously sappy, doe-eyed smile. Steve had known what those smiles meant, when the picture was taken.

“Thank you,” Steve choked. “This is… the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

He vaguely remembered tucking it into the pages before heading out for that last mission. He’d had it out to cry over, if he was going to be truthful with himself, laid flat out on the table while he tried to get drunk.

“You had to take this one with you,” Bucky said. When Steve looked up, Bucky was staring off at the photo blankly, clearly lost in the memory. “Because I took all the rest.”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, reaching out to pull Bucky close to his side in a hug. He buried his face shamelessly into the hair at the side of Bucky’s head. Bucky reached up and gripped Steve’s arm.

“I lost one of them in the Hydra Base when they took my gear, and one blew away in London. The fourth-” he cut himself off with a choking sound. “The fourth,” he started again, “I kept until I fell. I had to keep in my pants pocket all folded ‘cause no one else could see it.”

“I,” Steve froze.

“We could have gotten in trouble for it,” Bucky huffed a hoarse laugh.

 

_“Crowd’s goin’ quiet,” Bucky whispered from back in Steve’s lap. His eyes were unfocused and bright in the dark when he looked up at Steve. Steve looked down, his neck loose and his head heavy with the alcohol and simple contentedness. “Means the show’s gonna start soon.”_

_“Well we aughtta climb out from under this pier, then,” Steve replied halfheartedly, looking up and trying to see something through the slats of wood. Bits of dark sky, fabric as people passed, and honey colored wood were all he could make out._

_“This is so nice though,” Steve almost didn’t hear Bucky, he was so quiet. “Plus I might fall over if I get up,” Bucky laughed, silly, at that. Steve chuckled back and brushed a piece of hair, long enough that the nuns were going to make him cut it soon, out of Bucky’s eyes._

_“We won’t be able to see them,” Steve sighed._

_“Sure we will,” Bucky jerked his chin over at the crowd, a few hundred feet away and densely packed on the sand._

_The people close to the water were in shadow enough that Steve should only make out silhouettes, but light from the park bathed the people closer to the wooden pier. They were loud, barely muffled by the distance Steve and Bucky had managed to get somehow. Above the throng of people and below where the wood above them cut off his view, Steve could see a pretty big expanse of night sky after all._

_“They’re gonna light up all the way from there to there,” Bucky said, tracing the expanse of sky with his finger. “We’ll just miss the ones furthest right, and the finale always happens in the middle anyway.”_

_“If you say so,” Steve shrugged._

_“Lay down, you can see better,” Bucky sat up and scooted off to the right. He pillowed his head on his arms behind his head and looked expectantly at Steve. Steve went down slowly, really feeling the dizziness when he moved too much. He mimicked Bucky’s pose, the soft sand burrowing its way into his hair._

_“This_ is _nice,” he said, looking off at the sky._

_“Mmhmm,” Bucky nodded. When Steve looked over, his eyes were closed. He returned his eyes to the stars and then Bucky said, “So you’re sixteen now. Practically a man,” so Steve looked at him again._

_“Technically not until 10:00 pm,” Steve said dryly. Bucky rolled his eyes with a crooked grin._

_“You ever kissed a girl?” he asked. Steve’s smile melted right away._

_“No,” he replied. “You know that.” Steve was upset Bucky would even ask and turned his head._

_“You coulda and just not told me, Bucky shrugged. He scooted closer, bringing up a little hill of sand between his chest and Steve’s shoulder._

_“I tell you everything, jerk,” Steve groused, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the sky and refusing to even glance over._

_“Don’t get testy,” Bucky muttered. “You know, I was kissin’ Dorothy Miller a while back and we talked a little and I asked how she got so good at kissin’, cus she said she’d only ever kissed two other fellas. She told me that she practiced on her friend Felicity.”_

_That got Steve’s attention. He cocked an eyebrow and tried to keep his glare sharp when he turned to look at Bucky. Their faces were close, Bucky’s freckles blurring in Steve’s vision. “She kissed another gal?”_

_“Yeah,” Bucky breathed. Steve felt the air on his face. “As pals,” he added pointedly, glancing down towards Steve’s chin._

_“Why’re you tellin’ me? Seems like somethin’ she told you as a secret,” Steve mumbled, trying to glower. His face was heating up and he knew his ears were already red. Bucky’s eyelashes dropped to half-mast and he quirked a smile. He knew when Steve was playing dumb._

_“Well, I think she’ll forgive me when one of her friends kisses you and you know what you’re doin’,” Bucky replied. Still staring at Steve’s mouth, Bucky ran his tongue over his lower lip. It was an old habit, but Steve had never recalled it looking quite like that._

_“Oh?” his voice trembled. He didn’t know of any girls who’d want to kiss him, but he thought that was maybe not the point. Irrationally, he_ hoped _it wasn’t the point._

_Bucky just nodded silently. One of his hands came out of the sand and rested against Steve’s ribs, sand raining down onto Steve’s belly. Steve could feel the minute tremble running through Bucky’s fingers._

 

“You, uh, remember that?” Steve asked, licking his lips. Distantly he heard Tony announce fireworks and the rest of the guests cheering. The porch lights all went out.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, finally turning to look at Steve. His gaze was laser sharp, pupils large in the sudden dark, and his mouth was slightly parted. “The fellas all had pictures like it too, but they were with dames. Fallsworth asked me where the pictures of my sweetheart were and I had to tell him that ‘Stephanie’ didn’t like her picture taken.”

_Steve darted his eyes between Bucky’s mouth and eyes, breathing hard against Bucky’s face and trying to decide if he should move, because as forward as Bucky had been so far, Steve knew he wouldn’t go further. They both knew that while Bucky was good with words, Steve was actually the brave one, and they were also painfully aware of the thousands of people somewhere to the left of them, just a few hundred feet away._

_Steve sat up a little, using his elbow for support so their faces were level, and Bucky angled his head to keep their faces close. It was just an inch, but it was enough of a gap that Steve could lay back down right now and they could pretend that it had never even started; blame the alcohol for getting them silly. His pulse was hammering, his breath already picking up pace._

 

“Why didn’t you bring it up,” Bucky whispered desperately, his fingers snatching out and grabbing Steve’s hand. Steve had the presence of mind to place the photo back in the box and put the whole thing aside. “You never mentioned it, not once…” his eyes were darting over Steve’s face, not lingering on any one thing.

 

_Steve leaned forward, just a little._

_This could change everything forever, but he wanted it. He imagined he’d have had enough money to pay for the whole night if he had a penny for every time he’d drawn Bucky mouth, or his eyes. Now he had a new angle to draw them from, more detail memorized than six inches apart on a bed could give him, even. The tiny white scar from when Bucky had smacked his face into the pavement during a fight and split his lip. The freckle just hidden under his left eyebrow, too small to see usually._

 

“I know we’re both different,” Bucky said, voice quiet and frantic and hurt, his fingers painfully tight in Steve’s. “I know- me especially. Is it that you don’t want it anymore? Am I too different? You said I was still me, but I-”

“-didn’t want-” Steve started, voice drowned out by a sudden explosion; the start of the show, “-to pressure you. You needed to remember first,” he squeezed Bucky’s hand and scooted so their thighs were pressed together, ignoring the blasts. “If I planted ideas, I could have altered how you remembered things and-”

“Shut up, Rogers, shut up,” Bucky whispered frantically, pawing at the back of Steve’s head and angling his chin up. His eyes were changing colors along with the lights above them. “God, you’re too noble. Just answer me, do you want this back? Do you want us back?”

“Yes,” Steve breathed. “Yes, I always- _Yes_.”

“Then kiss me. Kiss me, Stevie, please,” it was barely audible, but Steve heard it and obeyed.

 

_Bucky’s lips were parted, and so, so close. His breath smelled like booze, and his skin smelled like salt water. His breath was shuddering in his chest just as bad as Steve’s and his fingers were restless where they dug, gritty, into Steve’s ribs._

_It was the nervousness that did it for Steve; the feeling that they were both on the same page here as in all other things._

_Steve pressed forward, just enough so that their lips brushed, feather-light. He pulled back before he’d even call it a real kiss, but Bucky had felt it, Steve knew, because his eyes went wide and he took a shaky breath in._

Their lips came together none-too-gently and Steve didn’t know if the lights behind his eyes were from endorphins, or the fireworks, or because he’d slammed his eyes shut too hard. It was amazing, and perfect, and just like it used to be, except that when he put his hand in Bucky’s hair it was longer and they were in front of something like forty people who could look over at any moment, but wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.

 

_Before Steve could roll over and try to get his breathing and pulse in order, before he could think about having an attack or panicking about what he’d just done, Bucky was back at his mouth with some actual pressure._

_Steve made a startled, tiny noise._

_Bucky’s lips were chapped from the sun and cool from the darkness and the mouth of the metal flask. His breath stuttered out through his nose and against Steve’s cheek. His mouth was moving, gentle and slick against Steve’s frozen lips._

It wasn’t the best kiss they’d ever shared, and it didn’t feel life changing or soul-shattering like Steve had maybe imagined it would. What made it good was the relief, the feeling of _finally_ Steve could feel thrumming through his veins as Bucky’s mouth moved under his and a hand carded up through the short hair on the back of his head.

“When did you remember it?” Steve said against Bucky’s mouth. Bucky’s eyes blinked open slowly and his hand slid down Steve’s neck and around to rest against his chest. Bucky’s laugh was bright and bubbling when he answered.

“Why do you think I pulled you out of the Potomac?” Bucky shook his head through a laugh. He was pink in the cheeks and grinning like Steve couldn’t remember seeing since something like 1941. “I didn’t understand what I was remembering until a lot later, but I remembered this _feeling_.”

“Jesus, Bucky,” Steve breathed.

“ _Seventy Goddamn years_ , Steve, Christ,” he pulled Steve forward again by the front of his shirt.

_Bucky pulled back and Steve panicked, wanting it to be over and wanting it to never end all at once. Without thinking, he reached his hand out to scrabble at Bucky’s jaw. This time, it was Bucky who made noise, and again it was Bucky who kissed back._

_His lips were parted, so Steve opened his too. They breathed at each other for a moment before Bucky got brave and Steve felt his tongue briefly slide over his lower lip. Steve’s toes curled and he tried his hardest to be quiet and stay still, unsure of what to do other than that. His body was disobeying and pressing closer, though, leaning into Bucky’s warmth. A soft sigh escaped him as Bucky’s hand slid over his ribs, the sand tickling._

_A burst of light and an explosive cheer momentarily jarred them, both boys freezing and glancing at the crowd. The fireworks were starting, and no one was looking anywhere close to their direction. It could have been an excuse to stop._

_Bucky wasn’t as hesitant the next time, spurred on by the commotion or the decreased likelihood of being seen, Steve couldn’t tell, and then they were kissing like Steve had seen other people kiss. Bucky kissed deep, and Bucky kissed hard. Their chests were pressed together and Steve’s chest rattled with the booming above them and how relentless Bucky had suddenly become._

_Steve kissed back the best he could think how, giving what he got. At some point they’d both sat up some, making it easier to put pressure behind the presses of lips. The hand what wasn’t supporting Steve’s weight wound into Bucky’s hair and Bucky nipped at Steve’s mouth, the sharp sting surprising and good after the softness of Bucky’s tongue. Steve gasped and pulled Bucky’s hair by accident, getting an honest moan, a sound he’d only heard twice before, from deep within Bucky’s chest._

_And as slowly as it had started, it was over with one quick backwards movement from Bucky._

_They were both breathing hard, and Bucky was clearly flushed even in the dark. Steve licked his tingling lips and stared Bucky down, waiting for him to get his breath back and speak first._

_“Damn,” Bucky panted and swallowed, looking anywhere but at Steve, “Uh,” he cleared his throat and some of the roughness left his voice. “Not bad,” his voice was shaking. “I have no… negative comments.”_

_“Same to you,” Steve managed breathily._

_“Happy birthday, Steve,” Bucky licked his lips and smiled awkwardly, “Now the first dame you kiss will never let you go.”_

_The last thing Steve was thinking about was kissing girls._

“So. Some people stayed on the top level. You’re supposed to _watch_ the fireworks, you know,” Tony said coolly, quietly, as he came up next to Steve, who was packing up the leftover cake.

“Uh,” Steve fumbled and dropped the slice of cake in his hand. It fell to the stone ground with a splat, flinging blue icing against his and Tony’s shins.

“Don’t worry,” Tony rolled his eyes and bent to pick up the cake with a napkin. “Your secret is safe with me, as always,” he added as he stood back up. “Well, me and Pepper. And Natasha. And Legolas, who is fifty bucks poorer via Natasha now. And also Sam, who is very, very proud of you by the way. Wants to know if he can be your best man, but I already told him that that’s my job.”

“Uh,” Steve said again, feeling a blush creep up his neck.

“No one else saw,” Tony crossed his heart, “I am telling Bruce, though- who by the way is very sorry he couldn’t make it, I forgot to tell you. I’d avoid telling Thor for a while, since he tends to overdo things and also it’s fun to watch him think he’s wrong about you guys sharing a bed- which, by the way, good luck with tonight. That won’t be awkward-”

“Tony,” Steve spluttered, covering his face with his hands.

“- assuming of course that you aren’t going to go all the way tonight, which I do assume because you’re you. Even though I know with one-hundred-percent certainty that you have had sex with that man before.”

“Tony,” Steve wheezed. “Please.”

“Alright, alright,” Tony clapped him on the shoulder and glanced out at the remaining guests, which pretty much consisted of only the team and Pepper now.

Steve followed his line of sight. Bucky was sitting on a love seat with Pepper, laughing at a story Clint was telling and gesturing about, his head in Natasha’s lap. Thor was laughing louder, drowning out anything else Steve could have hoped to hear. Tony’s eyes had gone all fond and faraway when Steve looked over at him.

“You know, we’ll take you however you are right?” Tony said softly, looking back.

“I know,” Steve smiled and pulled Tony into a brief, one-armed hug. “But it’s not,” Steve swallowed and cleared his throat, his thoughts still swimming, “something I think needs to be a secret.”

“Yeah, but as accepting as a lot of people are,” Tony sighed, turning back around and shoving some cake in a Tupperware, “there’s a lot of others who would jump at the chance to tear you down for this. Plus, Freezerburn over there isn’t exactly public knowledge.”

Steve frowned. Tony was right, of course.

“Yeah, I know.”

 

_“Hey,” Bucky said._

_They were staring out at the fireworks now, gasping and cheering with the rest of the crowd from their private little place. Steve turned to look at him, squinting against the darkness after staring at lights._

_“Yeah, Buck?” he replied, surprised Bucky was talking to him so easily, but appreciating it nonetheless._

_“Let’s pretend the fireworks are for you, like we did when we were little,” even in the dark, Steve could see the soft turn up at the corner of Bucky’s faintly swollen mouth and the slight tilt to his head. If he could only be looked at one way for the rest of his life, Steve thought maybe that would be the look he’d choose._

_“Why?” Steve asked. They hadn’t done that since Steve had turned eight. Bucky shrugged._

_“It’s nice to pretend you can have things you can’t sometimes.”_

**Author's Note:**

> //sings "At Last" by Etta James.
> 
> This is probably my favorite one I've done. It was actually one of the first ones I drafted out, and I edited this one more than any of the others (the whole storyline changed three times). I liked having the whole gang (minus Bruce, who hates parties, I imagine) there and exploring Clint and Thor's voices more.
> 
> As always, comments are greatly appreciated and keep me going c:


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